The Anal Pansies
by smileintears
Summary: based on an ever-growing comic constructed from the imaginations of my friends and i, join us, The Anal Pansies, as we cause chaos among the Organization XIII! there will be slash and cross-dressing!you have been warned! p.s.:we don't own anything .
1. This is only the begining

this first chapter is mostly prolouge, but please sitck with it! here we hit the first victim!

* * *

"I _SWEAR_- if Bow-tard says one more thing about it being 'our band' and then doesn't give us _any_ voice in _anything_ we play or march, I will shove that damn baton of his down his throat!"

Two girls walked side by side down a sidewalk adjacent to their small town's library. The brisk autumn air shook several dead leaves free and whipped them into a frenzy matching the motions of the ranting girl. The wind stirred her strawberry-blond hair as her hazel eyes narrowed, crinkling her freckles that stood out profoundly against her pale skin. Her friend slowly blinked over deep brown eyes as she twisted her lips in to a combination pout/smile in agreement. Her face was framed by a pair of black square-framed glasses and a voluminous mass of dark brown hair which made her skin glow a bronze.

"Damn, it's windy today," the strawberry-blond suddenly dropped her rant as the wind picked up. It seemed to be carrying something shinning- glittering even. A crushed can? A candy wrapper? No, no piece of litter could shine on a cloudy day like this. She turned to her friend. "Brittany, do you see those shimmers?"

"Yeah, I was just about to ask you … the… same…"

Brittany found herself unable to finish her sentence as the specks of light gathered. "Ingrid-" she grabbed her friend's arm and dug her nails deep into the fabric of the teal sweater.

"Ouch," Ingrid mumbled before shaking her arm free. She made the smallest step possible forward- the specks were gathering into some sort of shape. She leaned in. The glow intensified, conforming into a huge blob of light, emitting a barely audible hum. She squinted against the bright light, leaning farther, and farther, and-

The light burst forth, sending a shock wave that knocked both girls back as they shielded their eyes. They looked closer. It was a- _keyhole?_

Surely such a phenomenon would call for words of high intellect and wonder…

"Brittany, look! A random keyhole-shaped portal!"

Ah, yes… _SUCH_ intelligence…

The brunette stepped forward, mouth agape at what had just zoomed in to being at the corner of First Street and West Holt. "Ya know…" she said, leveling up to Ingrid. "We probably shouldn't run full-force into it or anything…" she trailed off, finally blinking. Ingrid nodded slightly, muttering something of a "Yeah, sure." Neither the girls, nor the portal moved.

A moment of silence passed, suddenly followed by a loud battle cry and the stampede of two teen girl's footsteps against a littered side walk: "_**KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"**_

Jumping the small distance it took to clear the portal's boarder they plunges into what could only be described as swimming light- it had to be alive, they swore they heard its breath.

They were floating-they touched nothing. They felt almost- asleep. Lost in the feeling, they kept their eyes shut, until at long last weight began to push against their bodies. They sprung back to life. They could feel their eyes and mouth's straining- but they neither saw nor spoke anything.

That is, until they crashed into a ground.

A hard, gritty, neon-lit ground.

The two laid there and moaned, having landed in not the most comfortable poses. Steadily, they picked themselves up, dusting off their clothes.

Their incredibly unfamiliar, unusual, undeniably amazing new clothes.

They stood there- turning on the spot, turning their palms, stamping their feet, opening and closing their mouths in the manner of a beached fish. They finally glanced at one another- and stared. They blinked and stated loudly in unison:

"…AWESOME!"

They brought their eyes to colorful lighting that surrounded the dank streets. It had a mournful feel, like the place was mourning for something- yet it was reckless, all at once.

"Did we land in Vegas?" Ingrid asked in a hard voice, a serious expression on her face.

"I don't see any hookers or dumbasses who have that 'I-just-blew-my-life-savings' look, so my guess is no." retorted Brittany. "In fact- there's-there's nobody here at all!"

"Okay then… what's THAT?" Ingrid said jabbing a finger at a spot in the sky consumed by floating gray-_castle?_ Okay, no, no. No no no no NO! There was no way- this was just too weird! Well, there was only one intelligent thing to do.

"It looks legit, want to go check it out?"

"Do we have a choice?"

* * *

Meanwhile, inside the castle's walls, roamed a lone figure. He went by many names: Number VI, the Cloaked Schemer, the only guy with no real weapon; but he was most commonly known as Zexion. And Zexion had a special power- he could smell things. Really, _really_ well. More keen to scent than any hound, he knew every scent there ever was (or wasn't), and he knew just how they fit and blended together to form his world. So naturally, he stopped abruptly when some strange new smells disrupted the aroma of what he already knew. His nose twitched at the unfamiliar presence.

"I smell a disturbance in the force…no, wait… _**two.**_"

And so it began.

* * *

**_Victim #1: Marluxia_**

* * *

In a small secluded area, brightened by a miniature sun that rivaled the blindingly pristine white walls of the castle, blossomed what could only be described as a smorgasbord of flora, each with their personalized ecosystem. The cacti had their area directly beneath the sun, surrounded by sand and heat. Over to the side was a mash-up of wetlands, housing all carnivorous plants from Venus' fly traps to pitcher plants. There were even areas of tundra and prairie for grasses. Every shrubbery known to man thrived here- and a few that possibly weren't also made a few appearances here and there. Hell, even trees- ginkgo, pine, birch- grew here. But, the most eye-catching by far, were the flowers. Roses, lilies, lupines, violets, even commonplace blossoms such as clover and dandelions grew freely without the impeding fear of a weed-whacker.

Crouched among the stalks and stamen of what some would call this miniature Eden was a pink-haired figure, happily sniffing away at his handiwork. He like Zexion was known by many names, his most common name being Marluxia. Standing slowly, he picked a pink bloom and brought it to his nose, taking in the sweet, fresh scent. He exhaled in satisfaction. "Ah, only the best for her!" He let his eyes slip shut in fantasy, until two out of pitch voices (so rudely) interrupted.

"ZOMG ANUS PANSIES!"

"GET 'EM!"

Poor Marluxia's eyes shot open. "…What?!"

It was too late. Before he knew it, two hyperactive blurs ran and attached themselves to his neck and his legs. Knocked off balance by the sudden force, he began to tip, flailing his arms about himself "Ah…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"

The two pests didn't even seem to notice: "TIMBER!"

His mind wandered as he began to fruitlessly struggle against being bound materials that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Hair pulled, face painted and powdered, and hog tied into submission, he felt something be place on his head. It wasn't heavy, but that didn't quell his curiosity. It could be a heartless for all he knew!

Speaking of which, WHERE WERE THOSE DAMN THINGS WHEN YOU NEEDED THEM?!

He slowly cracked his eyes open when he heard feverish feminine giggles. It had to be the intruders since there were two, and one of them wasn't Larxene. His eyed lids felt layered and coated. His face was caked with some odd substance that made him give out a dainty sneeze. The giggling increased. Opening his eyes fully he saw the backsides of the two that had tackled him, shaking with laughter. He opened his mouth and one of them began to speak.

"So, Brittany, what do you want to do now?" said the one on the left.

"I don't know, Ingrid," Said the brunette to the right. "Let's ask-"

They spun in unison thrusting their hands forward at Marluxia in presentation. "-THE PRETTY ANAL PANSY PETAL PRINCESS!"

Marluxia suddenly realized what that stuff was that was heaped on his face and possibly giving him hives. Catching his reflection in a nearby puddle, he saw his gorgeous silky hair- hair that he'd spent so much time taming, styling, perfecting- crudely pulled back into two pigtails. His face was as white as his daisies and his cheeks were pinker than the surrounding hydrangeas. His lips stained with thick red lipstick quivered as he beheld eyes ringed by thick layers of black liner along with black lashes, moving up into lids weighed down with blue eye shadow. His gut sunk, and he screamed the first thing that crossed his mind:

"SAVE ME!!"


	2. Tea parties and French maids

Around an hour later, another foreign character entered the make shift environment. She swung her arms happily to the beat of the tune she hummed as she listened to the crinkling of the cellophane bag at her side. Keeping up the carefree manner, she pushed open the door and trotted in happily. "Oh Marluxia!" she chanted. "I got that fertilizer for-"

She stopped short upon seeing Marluxia bound and crouching into a tiny seat, shaking as he sat looking down wide-eyed at the small steaming porcelain teacup in front of him, his golden tiara shaking with his quivers. Two other forms surrounded him- a brunette in pink and black, and a strawberry blond in blue. They both turned to look where the strange voice was emitted, their eyes as wide as their mouths were gaping.

"…Emily?" they gasped. They ran to join their new-found friend.

The new girl seemed not so happy. She dropped the bag, causing the contents to spill out in a lumpy, brown, disgusting mess. "…Wha… WHAT THE HELL IS-"

"HEY GUYS!" a sweet musical voice interrupted. "I made cookies!"

In stepped-or rather _pranced_- a jolly young man, smiling broadly as his heels clacked against the floor with his lively steps. His short frilly skit bounced around his thighs and his white apron stood out starkly against the black. In his hands was a silver platter of fresh cookies. His oddly-cut, sandy-blonde hair swished around him as he let out soft giggles.

* * *

**_Victim #2: Demyx_**

* * *

This figure is known as Demyx. And right now, it was Demyx in a French Maid's costume.

His cheerful face faded when he was met with four stares. His mouth hung open as a moment of silence passed between them all. Finally breaking it, Demyx brought a hand up to rub the side of his face and let out a small laugh as he began to make baby-steps backward. "Ah ha… ha… this is awkward… GAH!" the poor maid's shoes threw him off balance and the tray of precious cookies went flying, clattering to the ground.

* * *

**_Victim #3: Xigbar_**

* * *

The room plunged into silence again with the sudden "tak, tak, tak," of footsteps down the hallway. A figure whipped around the door frame- followed by his bi-colored ponytail. This one was known as Xigbar. He carried a look of genuine concern and curiosity on his face. His brow furrowed and skin lightly folded around his eye-patch. "Dem, what's-"

His remaining eye nearly fell out of its socket. Set gloriously before him was the sandy-blonde satirist in a revealing, yet oh so sexy costume. The skirt swished just so and allowed the pirate look-a-like a peek under the layers of crinoline at the supple thighs and firm backside. Demyx's golden locks swayed slightly as he turned his head in Xigbar's direction. Glimmering oceanic eyes looked in curiosity as a slender finger was daintily poised on smooth lips.

Xigbar's head was spinning. All those late nights alone… and on the ceiling… showers... bathrooms...staring…

The scent of metal filled his nose as red liquid began to spout from his nostrils. He fell back with a contended sigh as his single eye rolled towards the back of his head. His body hit the ground with a resounding thud, a trickle of blood still etching its way down the side of his face. The girls repressed fits of laughter, while Marluxia had yet to break his gaze in his mirror of tea.

Demyx slapped his hands to the side of his face in a most feminine squeal. "Oh no! Xiggy!" he ran hurriedly to the fallen form cradled Xigbar's blood stained face in his hands. The scarred mans lips pulled into a light smile as he muttered incoherently. Something about "room service…"

After enjoying the adorable display of affection, Ingrid popped her eyes back into her skull, wiped her own nose and promptly turned to her friends. "So, this is where you've been?"

"Yep!" answered Emily her ever cheerful tone. "Some weird key hole-portal thing sucked me in and BOOM! I'm kissing asphalt in a neon strip beneath this weird float-y castle thing!" she punctuated her sentence with a smile.

"Okay…" Ingrid drawled. "It's good to know the fall didn't change you!"

"I never said I-"

"That's how we got here," Brittany interrupted.

"Oh, _Really?!_" Emily's voice raised an octave. She sucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and flopped her arms around her friends. "You _guys_, I still haven't finished checking this place out!"

"Well, what the hell are we waiting for?" Ingrid grabbed the nearest hand of both her friends. "Let's go!"

Marluxia snapped from his trance in just enough time to see three skirted bottoms run out the door. "Hey… wait! Come back here! Untie me at least!" He grunted against his restraints as the footsteps faded. His eyes fell on Demyx still, trying to revive the fallen Xigbar.

"Hey, Demyx!" he called, but the blonde gave no sign of answering.

"Demyx…" Marluxia was again ignored as Demyx began to fan Xigbar's face.

"NUMBER IX!! ANSWER ME DAMMIT!"

He was again refused a response as Demyx portaled out of the room dragging the unconscious Xigbar with him.

Marluxia thrashed around, gritting his teeth, seething, forgetting his surroundings completely.

Or at least until he felt the scalding tea hit his lap.


	3. Humiliation and Molestaion

Welcome to more of what can only be described as (hopefully) decently written crack. We don't own anything, so…... enjoy!

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Kingdom Hearts or Shrinky-Dinks._

_book passages_

_**thought**_

**_Victim #4: Zexion_**

* * *

After running around aimlessly in the castles white washed walls for about an hour while Emily explained to them about what the rest of the people-er, well, I guess you could call them that for this purpose- were like (she HAD been there longer, after all), the troupe stumbled upon the kitchen. Seeing as you can only play aliens vs. ninjas for so long, the girls attempted to memorize every land-marking detail about the area and decided to split up, keeping the kitchen as a sort of HQ. After wishing one another the best of luck, they went their separate ways.

Brittany trotted aimlessly about the halls, picking directions at random. A left here, a right there, a-

"OOF!"

She grunted as she tripped and fell smack into the floor. After checking to see that her jaw was still intact, she picked herself up to see what had stopped her from the adventure. Down beside her right boot was-

"A book?"

Yes, and very thick and ominous looking book at that. Being the shameless bookworm she was, Brittany picked up the book, dusted herself off and cracked open the pages to a random passage. All sorts of notes, things in different languages, diagrams, all in very careful clean hand writing covered the pages as they released a musty and (for lack of a better word) chemical-y smell. She knew who it belonged too (thanks to Emily), and she knew she probably shouldn't open it, but **_hell_**- this was too good of an opportunity to pass up!

"Wow! What a great book!" she exclaimed. Flipping through now at a quicker pace, she failed to realize another presence had entered the room- until it yelled at her.

"GIVE ME THAT BACK, DAMN IT!"

Turning slowly she pursed her lips in sarcasm at the indigo-haired creature that had appeared before her. He came to about her shoulder. She tried to suppress a fit of laughter. So this was the short guy who smelled stuff as a defense? Emily's description was underrated. The poor man was like a living shrinky-dink! "Heh, what'cha gonna do?" she asked. "Insult my body spray? Tell me my soap sucks? Because in all honesty, 'You stink!' is soooooooo third-grade, my dear midget."

"My name is Zexion, I'm also known as the Cloaked Schemer. I am number six in the Organization XIII, I'm not a midget, and I want my book back!" he said coolly. Brittany instead turned away from him, stroking her chin as she poked her tongue out in an effort to brain storm. Finally, the perfect device of torture entered her mind. She turned back to face her victim, standing on her tip-toes and dangling the book form her directly upward-stretched arm. "Ya want the book, Zexy? Is that what you want? Come get it! Come on and get!" she said, taunting the poor guy. He jumped in an effort to reach his possession.

"You're almost there!" she taunted.

"Oh my GOD, you are EVIL!" Zexion growled. Seriously, he'd rather deal with a hundred key blade-warriors than this right now. The brunette in pink only let out a deep throaty laugh as she snatched the book away from him and turned away to resume browsing its contents.

"Why are you so protective of this thing anyways? It's just a-" her sentence stopped short as her eyes widened and she sucked her cheeks in shock. Zexion stopped fuming long enough to let out a faint "Oh dear God…" before the brunette burst back into her howling laughter. She began to read the words: "_March 18, 2008_…"

Zexion clenched his teeth and ran straight for her, but having a height advantage, Brittany simply suck out her arm at the oncoming streak of indigo, catching his head and holding him at bay as she recited the passage in an animated voice.

"_I almost slipped on some spilt acid today, or was it a base? I can't remember. All I remember is how safe I felt in his big, strong arms! He's such a gentle giant! Even if I don't have a heart, I think I'm in love! Thankfully, no one will know this. Yay for diaries! I just wish I had the guts to-_ OOH! Is that a love poem I see?" she said with a cruel smile.

Zexion flailed in an effort to claw her eyes out. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! GIVE ME THAT BACK AND SHUT UP!"

**_

* * *

_****_Victim #5: Vexen_**

* * *

During the whole previous ordeal, Ingrid was having a promising adventure of her own. Having an affinity for mysterious and lonely places, she was brimming with excitement as she found a door leading to what seemed to be a basement. It smelled much like her old chemistry classroom, but it gave her a different (and much more welcome) set of chills. _Oh, this was exciting! _Noticing a door propped slightly ajar she pushed it farther open and poked her head in to get a better look. "What's up in here?" she whispered to herself. Scanning the room, she saw what looked like the set of an old science fiction movie. Test tubes filled with bubbling chemicals scattered everywhere, silhouettes floating in tanks, wires and machines of every weird assortment making every sound possible- and even computers were busy clicking away at compiling and sorting data. She was actually almost expecting to see Frankenstein's monster strapped to a table somewhere. _**Bo-ring, **_her mind yawned. She nearly turned away, until the glint of something caught her eye.

The shimmering glint was a reflection of one of the many lights off of the side of a test tube- a test tube that was held by a hand that was connected to a male figure.

Any other person would have just seen a blonde scientist at work, but this was Ingrid. She saw something much more different. In her mind she saw the most beautiful thing to cross her line of sight since-since- ah, she couldn't even find a comparison! She gripped the door frame as her imagination set in motion. The blonde's hair began to blow in the wind and his cloak fell away from his shoulders, revealing a sculpted chest that would put da Vinci's work to shame, accompanied by a look of determination settling over his perfect features. The unblinking girl snapped back to reality as Emily's description echoed in her mind.

"_**Oh, and there's this old crazy scientist guy named Vexen. He's got long blonde hair, and his laugh is **__**really**__** creepy. Not to mention he's UGLY!**_**"**

"_Oh. My.__ GOD__**.**_" She gasped. Again, Emily's description was underrated. _Way_ underrated. Wiping the blood from her nose, Ingrid launched herself into the room, quickly ducking behind a free-standing work counter and a very larger beaker with a fizzing lime-green liquid, distorting her features.

The scientist turned to place his test tube back onto the rack and jot down some observations. As he reached for his pen, he noticed something weird in the solution he had just been working with around ten minutes earlier. _**What now?**_ He thought. He picked up the beaker gingerly, revealing a blushing strawberry-blonde looking directly up at him, smiling and letting out a soft giggle. He jumped back and tossed the beaker into the air in shock: "GAH! WHAT THE CRAP?"

The strawberry-blond jumped onto the work counter, knocking aside all sorts of chemicals and lab equipment without care. The scientist was frozen on the spot. There were a ton of questions assaulting his brain right now and his body did not seem to be functioning, seeing as it did nothing when his mind screamed _**run, fight, DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT!**_ The strawberry-blond reached out to touch one of the drawstrings of his cloak's hood and twirl it seductively between her fingers. "Hey there Sexen-oops!" she giggled at her malapropism. "I mean _Vexen._"

_**Why the hell does she know my NAME?**_ he screamed in his mind.

"You know, I only have a 'B' in chemistry right now, and that kind of disappoints me… would it be okay if you tutored me _privately?_"

"I-I- um…" Vexen stuttered as his face heated up. Why was this happening, this was not supposed to happen, this never happened!

Little beads of sweat began to collect on his brow. The girl leaned in closer and lightly tapped his bottom lip. "…Then maybe we could do some _biology practice?_" she said sexily.

"…" Poor Vexen was at a loss for words. His mind, however, was raving: _**I CAN'T HANDLE THIS!**__** C'mon… THINK, VEXEN **__**THINK!**__** You're a genius! There's got to be a way…**_

And then it hit him-sheer stroke of brilliance and luck that could only come from Vexen himself. _**Please work, please please work!**_ he silently pleaded:

"LOOK!" he said, pointing into the shadowed hall. "Xemnas and Saïx are going at it!"

The girl's expression changed from attempting seductress to high alert. Her head whipped around, causing some back pieces of hair to slap Vexen's face. He wrinkled his nose and sputtered at the offending strands, waving them out of his face. Her eyes stared into the hall, scanning and listening intently for a minute before whipping around again and muttering "Excuse me," with a polite smile. Again making an about face, she leapt off the counter and broke into a mad run down the hall. Vexen swore he saw dust clouds from where she launched off as he stepped back and wiped his brow.

"Phew!" he sighed softly. His relief was short lived, though, as he turned around to find half of his glass containers smashed to thousands of shards, other pieces of equipment destroyed, and holes eaten though much of his floor, desks, and machines.

However, while Vexen had survived his ordeal without sustaining much physical (and possibly mental damage), there were a few others in the castle who were about to reach their much more humiliating, and-well let's face it- hilarious fate.


End file.
